Hating the Rain
by Teddy.syn
Summary: Gaara hates rain. Naruto manages to change his mind. After all, it sure makes good kissing weather. Naru/Gaa fluff.


Gaara sat scowling out of his window, listening to the rain sleet against the glass. He hated the rain. It was fine if he was inside, dry, protected from it, but being cooped up inside was never on his list of favorite things to do. He hated that the rain could force this kind of existence on him.

Gaara scanned the view, or what he could see of it through the window. Trees, dark and dripping, branches thrashing in the wind, rain pelting the glass, leaves, rain, some soppy grass, rain, puddles, figures, dark-clad, hunched against the _rain_, trying desperately to find shelter… rain.

He couldn't stand it. He was Gaara of the Desert, Kazekage, most powerful ninja of the Village Hidden in Sand, and he was completely defeated by such a simple, common, _necessary_ occurrence. He frowned. There wasn't anything he could do. Trees grew under conditions including adequate nutrients in the soil, plenty of sunlight, and water—rainwater. Without any one of these factors, the trees would die, and dead trees did not put out leaves. The Village Hidden in Leaves would be very un-hidden if there was a drought.

Of course, just because he recognized the necessity of a thing didn't mean he approved. The rain soaked him to the skin, straight through his sand protection, and weighed him down until even with his excessive chakra he couldn't manipulate his best—only—weapon. It was simply _dangerous_ for him to exist in the same place as rain. Dangerous for him.

There was something else that influenced his dislike of the wet season. The problems the rain caused him were severe enough to keep him inside, and under normal circumstances he wouldn't mind—it wasn't bad to be stuck inside with the right people. Person. Damn it. He wanted to see Naruto. Usually he would wait on the roof, and the blonde could always come up with _some_ means of distracting his guards well enough to reach him. Gaara made it easy for him. Rooftops really just weren't that defendable.

That was the real problem with being indoors. There were only two directions a person could use to approach his door, and both were heavily guarded. The loud idiot just wouldn't stand a chance.

_Why couldn't it have been that asshole Uchiha?_ He wondered. Of course, Sasuke would never have reached out to him in the first place—_had_ never reached out to him, in fact—but at least he was a competent ninja. He could sneak past ANBU guards with little trouble, given the proper motivation. He sighed, turning away from the window. There was no chance he would see Naruto tonight.

A tap sounded behind him, and he looked back, eyes widening at the sight. Shaking his head, he took the few steps necessary to carry him back to the window, lifting the glass pane out of the way. He did not offer a hand or any other type of assistance to the young blonde climbing over his sill; the boy was sopping wet and dripping. He stood panting for a moment before grinning widely and moving forward, as if to touch the Kazekage, before visibly realizing his drenched state and thinking better of it.

"Betcha thought I wasn't going to make it, huh, Gaara?"

Gaara frowned. "I can't believe they don't watch the windows."

"You don't sound happy to see me," the blonde teased. He was still grinning.

"You should change into something dry before you catch cold."

"Idiots don't catch colds."

"Are you calling yourself an idiot?" He might have been considering showing a smile.

"No, no, just stating fact. Do you mind if I borrow something? I forgot to bring an extra set."

Gaara shrugged. He could have responded with a scathing, 'Ninjas should always be prepared,' and denied the boy. He would have, if it had been anyone else. But Naruto was special. Naruto had been through the same suffering as he had. Naruto _knew_. So he said, "Help yourself," instead, and indicated the dresser in the corner.

Gaara looked on as Naruto stripped, peeling off wet layers and dropping them into a soggy pile on the floor. They made splat sounds as they hit the tatami, but even though the water would ruin the flooring Gaara said nothing and, true to his expectations, a Naruto freshly clad in a plain yukata collected his clothes and draped them over the shower wall in the connected bathroom. Naruto didn't do an excellent job of keeping his own house, but he was polite enough to avoid ruining things that didn't belong to him.

_He has a good body_, Gaara thought privately. They had both been undersized as children, but now, adults by shinobi standards and almost-adults to civilians, Naruto had filled out. He wasn't a giant by anyone's standards, but he wasn't a runt, and puberty had produced enough testosterone in his body that all of his hard training was finally able to produce some lasting muscle mass. He had lost most of his baby fat, but the Naruto Gaara had met when they were twelve was still there in the features of this older person.

The boy wandered across the room to where he stood as he spoke, and after asking plopped down on a couch. "So, how's everything been, Kazekage?"

He loved the way Naruto used that term so casually, as though it was a childish nickname rather than a title deserving respect. It was already obvious that Naruto respected him, simply by always making it a point to be near him when they were in the same area. Naruto knew he was a powerful ninja, knew he was the leader of his village, knew he had worked hard to get what he had, but the respect he showed him was the respect one human shows to another—the fundamental respect that really mattered.

Gaara sat with him, letting the window again catch his eye and shape his reply. "Dull." He knew he shouldn't respond with one-word answers, but it was too much habit to try to break, and Naruto knew he didn't mean his terseness to be unfriendly.

"Ha. You say that every time you come here. Isn't there _any_thing in Konoha interesting enough to tempt your attention?"

"Maybe." He was teasing now. It was amazing how the blonde could always manipulate him into this position, but no matter what their conversation was about Gaara always found himself maneuvered into exposing his concern.

"Do I have to guess? Okay. Is it Ichiraku's?"

"No."

"Not Ichiraku's? There isn't a better ramen place in all of Konoha!"

"It's not Ichiraku's. Guess again."

"Hmm. Is it the Hokage Monument?"

"Not at all."

"You know, I defaced the Hokage Monument one time. That was before the old hag was added."

Gaara twitched, but refrained from asking. Naruto always said the strangest things, and if he didn't keep his guard up he'd be distracted. "Keep guessing."

"I'm running short on landmarks. Is it the Ninja Academy? You like to see all the little would-be genin running around trying to be cool?"

"Naruto, you know I hate children."

"It was just a guess."

"Do you need a hint?" He was getting bored. It was also making him nervous, the direction he had taken this game; he always showed Naruto more than he meant to, but this could take things too far. He knew where he stood on the subject on the blonde; Naruto's feelings for him were up in the air.

Naruto grinned, unknowing of his friend's inner turmoil. "A hint? Sure."

"It's a person."

"A person?" the blonde sounded thoughtful. "Not the old hag, I hope. You spend most of your time with her when you're here, so I guess it's possible, but… isn't she a little old for you?"

"Are you talking about the Hokage? Why would it be her?"

Naruto shrugged. "I don't know who else you know!"

"You know everyone I know in this town."

"Well, who is it, then? Sasuke?"

_The bastard? Is he being dense on purpose?_ "_Not_ Sasuke," the redhead emphasized. "He barely tolerates _you_."

"What is that supposed to mean? You're less annoying than I am."

"What a compliment."

"That's not what I meant!"

"Naruto."

"I'm sorry! Tell me who it is already!"

Gaara considered drawing out the torment—it was really one of the only real forms of entertainment, watching the blonde squirm—but something in his eyes must have given him away, because suddenly the air was thickened by the tension of seriousness and his gaze was locked with those blue eyes.

_Did I think there was something in _my_ eyes? Look at _his_._

That something was an intense chemistry that seemed to pull like a magnetic force; Gaara realized that they really hadn't been that far apart, and now that they were both leaning in the distance was closing rapidly.

Kissing was very engaging, Gaara thought, though a detached, rational part of him noted that the boy in front of him tasted like man, not strawberries or chocolate or even ramen, and there were no fireworks, no explosions of feeling. It was engaging, but not overpowering. He did, he noticed, feel a bit tingly in places—it was a nice feeling. He wanted it to last. Breathing wasn't a problem for him—he had a nose for a reason, obviously—but Naruto pulled away after a minute, cheeks flushed and breathing harsh.

A number of things flashed though Gaara's thoughts at that moment, foremost how he had basically just forced himself on another boy without any warning. Of course, it was _Naruto_, closer to him than anyone else on the face of the planet, but that wasn't an excuse for doing that to him; even if Gaara had wanted to for a long time, one person can't be the only one who makes the decisions in a relationship. It just didn't work like that. Even the emotionally stunted Kazekage knew that.

"Gaara," Naruto said softly, pulling away, "You know you're very… important to me. My friend. One of my precious people."

Ah. So they _were_ only friends, nothing more. That was painful. But they were friends—he was precious to Naruto, and Naruto, no matter what, was precious to him. He couldn't hurt him over something like this. It was so wrong, on so many levels. He almost sighed.

"You know, everyone tells me I have an invasive personality, and I'm bad at reading people, so if I'm pushing too hard or doing something you don't like, you have to tell me or else I won't know." The boy was staring at him with those wide, earnest eyes, and Gaara realized that the blonde thought he had been moving too fast. He of all people could understand why someone would guard themselves with terms of friendship before taking the plunge into a deeper relationship.

Gaara wasn't big on talking, though. He let his actions speak for him, telling the blonde that he hadn't pushed too fast, that Gaara wanted it too, that they could go the distance and enjoy themselves. He knew there would be repercussions later; how could there not be? Any relationship between the Kage of one nation and the son of a former Kage of another was guaranteed to provoke remarks; certainly Tsunade would have something to say. He dreaded to think what the Uchiha would come up with.

As the two boys continued their exploration of the physical aspect of their new relationship, he decided it didn't matter. For now, the rain would serve as a protective barrier, isolating them from the criticisms of the rest of the world.

A/N: I feel like Gaara talks too much early in this story. I always try to be in character, but… I wanted him to have developed a little.

I'm kind of sad that the rain that prompted me to write this has stopped… but at the same time it's really beautiful out, so maybe I'll go soak up some sun while I can. Vitamin D and all that…

Please review and tell me what you think! I really appreciate it, even if it's just a few words.


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